


Past Promises

by crochetaway



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 01:23:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16398716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway
Summary: Hermione and Draco have a past together and promises that were unkept.





	1. Promises

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: Thanks to my alpha, brownlark42 for giving me this idea and my beta, RachealLA26 for their help with this piece.**

* * *

_October 1998_

* * *

Draco Malfoy stopped abruptly when he found his usual table in the library already occupied. Granger was there, of course. Did she know it was his table? He didn’t think so, they’d only been back at school for a few weeks. Granger was back because she didn’t finish last year. Draco was back as part of his conditions for parole. He wasn’t upset about it though; sixth year was a blur and he knew he had failed most of his classes. Seventh year he’d hardly been in school at all. Draco and Granger were the only ones back from their year. It made Draco uncomfortable and he shifted his weight from foot to foot as he watched Granger write something on a piece of parchment.

“You going to sit?” she asked suddenly, piercing him with her frank gaze. Draco looked into her warm, brown eyes and nodded jerkily.

He pulled the chair out across from her and sat as she turned back to her work.

“What are you working on?” she asked.

“Was going to start Potions,” Draco mumbled and began digging in his bag for the appropriate books. He had been planning to speak with her at some point this year. He’d even contemplated asking her if he could sit down. He was a little stunned that she’d asked first. He was very stunned that she seemed to not hold a grudge against him. He shook his head and buried thoughts of her screaming on the floor of his drawing room. He could have a nightmare about it later. He had a Potions essay to write.

“Oh!” Granger lit up and grinned at him. “I’m working on Potions too, here.” She shoved a pile of books his way. “These were really useful.”

Draco nodded his thanks and sorted through the books, looking through the titles and trying to decide which would be best to start with.

“I began with Hubertson’s _Treatise on the Properties of Asphodel and Fungi_ ,” Granger offered. “It was alright. But I found Blankenson’s _Asphodel and Fungi: The Mystery_ , much more informative.”

“Did you look at Klinter’s _Fungi and Where to Find Them_?” Draco found himself asking as he dug the book from his bag.

“No! I didn’t even know it was still in print!” Granger looked up from her essay, shock clear on her face as she grabbed the book from Draco’s hands. “Where did you get this?” She was already ignoring him as she flipped through it.

Draco shrugged and began reading through _Asphodel and Fungi: The Mystery_ . He smirked to himself to see Granger crossing out major portions of her essay and copying information from _Fungi and Where to Find Them_. 

* * *

_November 1998_

* * *

Hermione Granger sighed heavily as she trudged through the dreary streets of Hogsmeade. The village wasn’t the same post-war. Half of the shops had been shuttered and the half that were open hardly had any product. Hermione diligently read _The Daily Prophet_. But obviously, there were things going on in the wizarding economy that the paper didn’t report. She shook her head and groaned when she realized she’d stepped in a puddle. It had snowed earlier in the week, but it had warmed again and the snow had melted. Hermione had tried to get away with her sneakers versus her boots and was regretting the decision as she hastily dried her feet.

She trudged forward once more and almost ran into the back of someone.

“Oh, sorry. Wasn’t paying attention,” she murmured and looked up to find Draco Malfoy looking down at her.

He wasn’t sneering as he would have done in the past and that thought alone made Hermione smile.

“Alright, Malfoy?”

Malfoy nodded. “Want to grab a drink and get out of this weather?” he asked as the wind whipped around a corner and howled down the street. Hermione’s grin broadened and she nodded her acceptance. “Three Broomsticks doesn’t real—”

“It’s alright, Malfoy,” Hermione said and looped her arm through his, leading him back down High Street and toward the outskirts of the village. “I’m friends with Aberforth. He’ll have a couple of butterbeers for us.” 

* * *

_December 1998_

* * *

Draco shivered as he exited the Slytherin common room. The castle was frigid in the winter and, with the blizzard going on outside, the wind whistled through the cracks despite the extensive repairs from the summer. Clearly, there was something that had been missed. He wasn’t sure why he was bothering to show up to the Great Hall for meals; it would be just him and the professors. He shook the thought from his head, he was following the conditions of his parole to the letter. The last thing he wanted to do was to end up in Azkaban. His father had paid a pretty penny to keep both himself and Draco out of the wizarding jail. And as much as Draco disliked his father these days, he wasn’t about to risk his hide. So it was a surprise when he entered the Great Hall to see Granger also seated at the central table.

About half of the professors were present, and there was an open spot next to Granger. She smiled at him when he slid into it and began prattling on about an assignment for Arithmancy that was due in January. Draco replied when appropriate as he ate his lunch quickly.

“Want to go to the library?” Granger asked as he patted his lips with his napkin.

“Sure,” Draco replied, not at all sure about the offer he was accepting. Although, when they reached the library, Granger settled into a table near the large fireplace.

“It’s freezing in Gryffindor tower. I don’t imagine it’s any better in the Slytherin dorms.”

“No,” Draco chuckled lightly. “It’s quite cold.”

“And here I thought you’d adapt. Being so cold-blooded,” Granger teased with a wink.

Her teasing startled Draco into an outright laugh. “Not as cold-blooded as you think, Granger.”

They worked on the Arithmancy assignment companionably and Draco found he enjoyed Granger’s presence. She was witty and sharp and she was always watching his reactions as if trying to puzzle him out. They spent quite a bit of time over the next two weeks ensconced in the library; not just working on assignments, either. 

* * *

_January 1999_

* * *

Hermione had grown more comfortable with Malfoy than she would have ever thought possible at the beginning of the school year. At best, she’d hoped they’d be able to tiptoe around each other as the only students from their original year at the school. She’d never imagined she’d spend the majority of her Christmas break in his company. Or that she’d enjoy it. School had just begun again and with it came a new round of assignments in all of their classes. It shouldn’t have surprised her as Malfoy had always been quite smart, but he was in each of her classes, even if they didn’t share them.

Ancient Runes was an elective that few elected to take, and so it was a combined class. After Christmas break, Malfoy had begun sitting next to Hermione in that class, as well as Arithmancy and Potions. Hermione didn’t mind. He was a good work partner when it was needed and a conscientious student. So when Professor Babbling assigned them to work in pairs, Hermione had just grinned at Malfoy—who nodded to her solemnly his acceptance. Getting Malfoy to crack a smile, or better yet, laugh, had become a goal for Hermione.

They spent the month of January back in the library, going through the dustiest of Ancient Runes texts working on their project. It was the most fun Hermione had ever had on a school project. 

* * *

_February 1999_

* * *

Draco had always hated Valentine’s Day. It seemed like such a _Muggle_ holiday, he couldn’t figure out how it had seeped into the ethos of the wizarding world. It was ridiculous; even with Dumbledore gone—Draco bowed his head as he had the thought—the school was decked out in red and pink hearts. _Snape would have sneered to see the school in such a state_ , Draco thought to himself as he ducked under a red streamer that decorated the outside of the entrance of the Astronomy tower.

The Astronomy tower was a ghost he was trying to conquer. He’d dropped Astronomy after his sixth year, not able to stomach the thought of going to the one place in the school that held his worst memories. He contemplated the entrance tonight. He knew it could be full of teenagers snogging, but February on the Astronomy tower was awfully cold. In fact, tonight might be the best night to go up all year. It was cold, and everyone else was off with their partners. He took a deep breath and began climbing the stairs at a slow, steady pace.

He was near the top when he realized he could hear someone moving around above the sound of the wind whipping through the open walls at the top of the tower. He slowed his pace and strained his ears. It didn’t sound like kissing, it sounded more like… crying? He frowned and stood on one stair with his left foot hovering over the next. Should he continue up? Or leave whoever it was to their misery?

 _Misery loves company_ , flitted through his head. He braced himself and climbed the last half-dozen steps to the top. He was glad he did because it was _Granger_ , of all people, huddled into the wall, crying.

“Granger?” he asked softly as he approached her.

She glanced up at him and buried her face into her hands with a groan. “Go ‘way.”

“Hey,” Draco said and he dragged his cloak from his shoulders, tossing it around her, before kneeling before her. “Whatever it is, it’ll be alright.” Draco awkwardly patted her shoulder.

“I’m stupid. This is stupid. It’s all just so bloody stupid,” Granger said.

“It’s alright,” Draco said again as he smoothed a hand down her back.

A few moments later, Granger finally looked up at him and Draco realized he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this close to her before. Her eyes were red from her tears and her cheeks were wet, but Draco thought she looked beautiful.

“Why are you here?” Granger asked.

Draco shrugged. “Trying to fight my inner demons, but then you seemed like you needed a friend.”

The corner of Granger’s mouth quirked up and she let out a small snort. “Thanks for putting off your demons for me.”

“Anytime, Granger,” Draco said. She wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face into his chest. Draco held her close, relishing the feel of her warm body in the freezing night air. “Care to tell me what this is all about?”

“Boys are stupid,” Granger replied and shocked Draco into a chuckle.

“That they are, Granger. That they are.” 

* * *

_March 1999_

* * *

Hermione decided she hated late March. It was cold and dreary and all she wanted was spring or better yet summer, but in Scotland, late March was still a time for winter. She’d been embarrassed that Malfoy had found her crying over Ron on Valentine’s Day, but he seemed determined to ignore it, so she ignored it too. That at least made things better. Ron had sent a letter the day after Valentine’s Day apologizing profusely for forgetting the holiday in the first place. Hermione felt stupid for even being upset about it. She and Ron’s relationship was still so new. And really, one of the only relationships Hermione had ever had. She shook her head. Thinking about Ron and their relationship wasn’t helping her mood.

She turned over, throwing one of her pillows over her head in a bid for sleep. She knew even if she did fall asleep, she was going to have nightmares. She contemplated taking a sip of her Dreamless Sleep potion but discarded the idea. She’d had some the last three nights and didn’t want to become addicted. She should have thought ahead to _tonight_. She screwed her eyes shut tightly and began counting her breaths. It didn’t take long before they evened out and she fell into a light doze.

Hermione bolted up in bed, sweating heavily. She panted and looked around with wide, fearful eyes. _You’re safe. You’re at Hogwarts. It was just a dream._ She repeated the mantra over and over again until her breathing had calmed. She couldn’t even remember the dream, not really; just a cold hard floor, the sound of her screams in her ears. She shivered and looked at her watch. It was just past midnight. She knew it was no use; she wouldn’t be getting back to sleep anytime soon. Hermione flung the heavy quilt off her body and grabbed her wand from the nightstand. She muttered a spell and found her feet encased in her boots, grabbing her heavy winter cloak on the way out the door. A walk around the grounds would hopefully clear her mind and tire her body so she could at least get a couple of hours of sleep.

She was halfway around the lake when she found she wasn’t alone. Someone was just up ahead, leaning against a rock outcropping. Hermione suspected it might be Malfoy due to the bright sheen of the moon off his hair. As she trudged closer found she was right.

“Hey,” she muttered quietly. Malfoy whipped around as if she’d startled him. He tucked his wand away when he realized who it was.

“Hey.” He nodded at her.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Hermione asked as she came to stand next to him.

“No…” he trailed off as if he wanted to say more, but wasn’t sure what to say.

“It was a year ago today that—”

“I know, Granger.”

Hermione nodded. Malfoy slipped an arm out of his cloak and placed it around her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Hermione told him as she leaned into his side. They stood there until their toes grew numb. When they were finally ready to go back to the castle, Malfoy walked her all the way up to the entrance to Gryffindor tower. 

* * *

_April 1999_

* * *

Draco turned his face to the sky as the sun finally peaked through the clouds of spring. It warmed his face and he almost smiled before he remembered where he was. Someone bumped into his shoulder, breaking his reverie and he glanced around Hogsmeade at the bustle of students. He turned toward the far end of town as something caught his eye. The sun was glinting off of Granger’s hair. Draco smirked and made his way toward her.

“Ron!” she shouted and took off running down the street toward where the redhead had just Apparated in. Draco frowned as he watched Granger throw her arms around the git that had made her cry on Valentine’s Day. Weasley hugged her back for a moment before pulling her into an embarrassingly graphic kiss. Draco made a face as he turned away and began making his way back to the castle. 

* * *

_May 1999_

* * *

Hermione couldn’t believe that it was really happening. The day she’d been dreading since she learned of it back at the beginning of the year. She couldn’t believe that people wanted to _celebrate_ today of all days. The day they had all lost so much. The headmistress had made it clear she expected each student to be present at the ball that evening. Hermione didn’t even plan to show her face. Harry and Ron were stuck on assignment, so they wouldn’t be coming either. She wasn’t going to be the only one of the so-called ‘Golden Trio’ for the press to pick apart. Glancing down at her right hand, she contemplated the Puking Pastille clutched there. She didn’t really want to take it, but she would if she had to.

Leaning against the wall, Hermione watched as the first guests began to arrive. She was hiding in the clock tower, hoping that her presence would go unnoticed by pretty much everyone. She hadn’t even bought a dress for the occasion. She would rather eat poison then attend that evening's events.

“Hiding?” a deep voice said from behind her. She whirled around to see Malfoy standing near the entrance of the clock tower. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his face was curiously blank except for his left eyebrow, which was lifted in query.

“Something like that,” Hermione muttered and turned back to the courtyard when a raucous peal of laughter reached her ears. She winced at the sound.

“Salazar,” Malfoy muttered beside her. She peeked over at him to see he was sneering at the festivities going on below.

“It’s disgusting,” Hermione said.

“Come on,” Malfoy said, tugging at her arm. She looked down at where his hand was then up to his face.

“To where?”

He smirked at her. That smirk a few years ago would have disgusted her. That night it made her heart beat faster. “It’s a surprise.”

She grinned at him and let him lead her along the upper floors of Hogwarts. They skirted around all of the public areas where people were congregating until they reached a half-hidden staircase that Hermione wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before.

“Where are we?”

“It’s a Slytherin thing,” Malfoy said. He led her up the staircase. There were a few old doors leading off it, but nothing like a hallway. Hermione imagined they must be in a tower. When the finally reached the top she found out she was right. They were at the top of a tower.

“It’s the West Tower. Most of the rest of Slytherin House is hanging out in the room below us.”

“Why?” Hermione turned to face Malfoy. The sun was just setting behind him, making something like a halo of light around his fair hair.

“Because none of them were welcome. And this was better than hiding in the common room.”

Hermione smiled at him as he turned to take in the sunset with her. 

* * *

_June 1999_

* * *

“Happy Birthday!” Granger announced from behind him. Draco turned to find her holding a chocolate cake with the words ‘Happy Birthday Draco!’ emblazoned on it in green frosting.

“How did you know?” Draco asked, smiling at her as they settled onto the blanket she had brought out for their study session.

“We’ve gone to school together for seven years, Malfoy. I’m not the brightest witch of my age for nothing,” she said with a wink.

Draco chuckled as she handed him the knife to slice the cake. He cut her a small piece and placed it on the plate she was holding out.

“Where’s my plate?” Draco asked, looking around. Granger only had the one and she was happily digging into her cake.

“You are legendary for your sweet tooth. Didn’t think you’d need one.” Granger smirked at him.

Draco’s guffaws bounced around the lake and startled a flock of birds from a nearby tree.

* * *

Later that month, as they both boarded the Hogwarts Express for the last time, Draco regarded Granger rather bittersweetly. She had been a true friend most of the year and he was sure he wouldn’t have made it through the year without her.

“Promise to write?” Granger asked.

“Promise,” Draco said, half-knowing that neither of them would keep it.

“Me too,” Granger grinned at him and slipped inside the carriage she was sharing with a few other Gryffindors.


	2. More Promises

_ October 31, 2024 _

_ 7.07 AM  _

* * *

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Millie Bulstrode pleaded with Hermione early that morning over tea. “You get to dress up and get out of the house! Don’t worry about the costume, I’ll take care of it. Just say you’ll come. Please!”

“I don’t know,” Hermione edged, picking at the blueberry scones her roommate had made earlier that week. She and Ron had been divorced for five years and, with both her children at Hogwarts most of the year, she’d moved in with Millie after the sale of the house she had shared with Ron. Millie was the last of the Bulstrode’s and owned a large townhouse in central London. She didn’t even mind that Hermione’s children came for a few weeks out of the year, when they weren’t at Ron and Romilda’s, anyway. And with Rose in her final year at Hogwarts, it would just be Hugo coming to stay with her on breaks. Millie’s boyfriend was never going to propose, both Millie and her boyfriend had admitted that, so Millie had practically begged Hermione to come stay with her after the divorce. At first, Hermione had planned for it to be temporary, but five years later, she had admitted to herself that she wasn’t planning to move out anytime soon. Millie hated living by herself in the huge townhouse and Hermione appreciated having someone to come home to at the end of a long day. 

“Please, for me,” Millie asked, turning her big blue eyes to Hermione. They hadn’t meant to become friends, but they’d both started in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures post-Hogwarts and had quickly become fast friends. They had been the only ones in the department under the age of seventy. It had been a necessity at the time. Now, over a quarter of a century later, Hermione couldn’t imagine what her life would be like without Millie. 

“It’s just going to be the same old people I see at every one of these things,” Hermione complained. 

“You never know,” Millie said as she placed the butter back in the cooling cabinet. “Maybe you’ll even find someone to fuck you.” Millie’s smirk was both saccharine and devilish.

“Millie!” Hermione threw her napkin at her roommate. “Aren’t we a little old for dress up Halloween parties?”

“Old? Hermione Granger, you take that back. I,” Millie struck a pose, sticking out her hip, and staring off into the distance, “will never be old.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” Hermione rolled her eyes at Millie’s antics. 

“Come on, it’s at Blaise’s new club. It’ll be fun. I promise! And if you don’t have fun you can make me do one un-fun thing. Whatever you want!” 

Hermione glared at Millie. “Everything I do for recreation  _ is _ fun.”

“Museums, especially Muggle museums are  _ not _ fun.” She looked at Hermione with her puppy dog eyes again.

“Fine,” Hermione sighed. “But whatever costume you pick out better not be indecent.”

Millie squealed in happiness and jumped up and down, giving Hermione a big hug. “Thank you! You won’t regret this, I promise!” 

Hermione submitted to Millie’s enthusiasm for a moment, before she broke free and headed for the Floo. Unlike Millie, who had quit the Ministry years ago to open her own interior design business, Hermione still had a boss to please. 

* * *

Nothing went Hermione’s way that day. First, the Floo connection had gone bad halfway through her trip and she’d landed in poor Mrs. Winterhouse’s sitting room, halfway across the country. Then, of course, Mrs. Winterhouse was out of Floo powder and harangued Hermione for a full fifteen minutes about coming into someone’s home uninvited. By the time Hermione had disentangled herself from Mrs. Winterhouse and managed to get outside to Apparate, the rain had started. She managed to mostly get her Impervious charm to work, but it was already too late for her hair. It frizzed up into a bushy mess that she attempted to contain with a low bun at the back of her head. She knew she looked a mess as she finally arrived at her desk in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It certainly wasn’t her dream job, but she felt like she’d put in enough years that they would hopefully be promoting her soon. Unfortunately, she still rated a desk in the open office space, and not an office.

“Granger,” her deskmate, a twenty-something called Ned, greeted her with a nod. “Boss dropped something big off.” He kicked a pile of boxes sitting at the foot of her desk. Hermione leaned over to read the first one and realized it had something to do with goblins. She hated dealing with the goblins. They, the goblins, hated her for her role in breaking into and out of Gringotts during the war. Even all these years later, they held a grudge.

“Fuck,” Hermione murmured as she set her cup of tea down on her desk and pulled her scarf from around her neck.

“Goblins, eh?” Ned asked with a grin. Hermione sneered at him and rubbed her temples. She’d better get through the boxes so she could figure out exactly what it was her boss wanted. 

At lunch, her salad bowl was only half-full of salad, which she didn’t realize until she’d walked all the way back to her desk with it. She sighed and ate it anyway, hoping that it was a mistake of filling the bowl and not that she was eating someone  _ else’s _ half-eaten salad. Shoving the thought from her mind, Hermione focussed once more on the goblins.

By the end of the day, Hermione was just done with everything. All she wanted was a glass of red wine, a book, and a very long, very deep bubble bath. Her Floo connection at least worked this time and she stumbled out into the sitting room. The house was almost deadly quiet, which probably meant that Millie had left already. Hermione was fine with that, she wasn’t much in the mood for conversation as it was. 

She glanced at the calendar hanging on the pegboard in the kitchen and realized it was Halloween. She wondered how Harry was doing. He’d always hated Halloween and never celebrated it if he didn’t have to. She decided she’d try to pop in and see him and Ginny this weekend, maybe bring them a bottle of wine or something. She made her way to her bedroom, where she found a complete outfit of a cat sitting on her bed. There was even a tail to be pinned to her trousers.

She groaned as she suddenly remembered her stupid promise to Millie that morning about attending this party. She  _ really _ didn’t want to go, but Millie asked for so little from her that she felt obligated. Glancing at her watch, Hermione realized she still had enough time to have a bit of a soak before the party. As she began stripping off her work clothes, she spied a note pinned to the headband with cat ears.

_ Roomie, _

_ It’s decent, I promise. Maybe a little snug, but you look good in snug. _

_ Love, _

_ M _

Hermione frowned, at least she knew a few tailoring charms if the outfit turned out to be too snug. She examined it closely to find that the trousers were leather as was the top, which was a sleeveless mock turtleneck and the whole ensemble was black. She had an old black leather jacket that used to be her father’s hanging in her closet she could pair with it to fight off the chill. Hermione let herself have a small grin at Millie knowing how to pick out an outfit Hermione would actually wear and took herself off to the bathroom. 

* * *

_ October 31, 2024 _

_ 7.43 AM _

* * *

“So there’s thi—”

“No,” Draco snapped, not looking up from his porridge. Whatever Theo was selling, Draco wanted no part. He and Astoria had been divorced for fifteen years, almost as soon as Scorpius started talking, Draco realized what a mistake it had been to marry her. He couldn’t be arsed to get his own flat and his father had kicked him out of the Manor, insisting that Astoria and Scorpius live there instead. So Draco had moved in with Theo at Nott Park and had never left. Theo didn’t care, as the arrangement worked for him. Draco cared about things like house repairs and making sure that the leaks in the ceiling were taken care of. They both benefited from the arrangement.

“Come on, you don’t even know what I was goi—”

“No is a complete sentence, Theo,” Draco muttered, cutting off his roommate once more. Although with the size of Nott Park, Draco wasn’t sure that they could be properly called roommates. Perhaps housemates was a better word. 

The worst part of the arrangement was that Draco hardly ever saw Scorpius. Astoria had poisoned both Draco’s parents and Scorpius against him. Draco knew it was something he  _ should _ care about. And sometimes he imagined actually  _ doing _ something about it, but at the end of the day, he never did. He liked his life the way it was now. It was simple to live with Theo. Draco even had a job that he really loved. 

“Don’t make me silence you,” Theo threatened pointing his wand at Draco from across the dining room table. Draco finally dragged his eyes up to look at his best friend.

“What is it?” 

“There’s a party tonight. For Halloween. At Blaise’s new club. I want you to come with me,” Theo grinned at him. “It’ll be like old times!”

“No,” Draco said as he Vanished his porridge bowl to the sink in the kitchen and stood from his chair. He Summoned his leather jacket from the hall and swung it around his shoulders, slipping his arms through the sleeves.

“Come on! It’ll be fun! Maybe you’ll even get laid!” Theo wiggled his eyebrows at Draco. 

Draco grimaced. “I said no. I’m not interested in a silly party, Theo. Besides, it’ll be the same old people I see at every Friday at one of Blaise’s clubs.”

Theo rolled his eyes at Draco and pleaded, “Come on. Just go for me? When do I ever ask anything of you?”

Draco sighed knowing Theo told the truth. In all honesty, Theo had been really decent to Draco after the divorce. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it further. He should probably get it cut soon. “Is a costume required?”

“Technically yes,” Draco bristled and Theo went on, “but I think if you come in your leather jacket you can get away with being a biker.” 

“Fine, but note my protest,” Draco snapped and turned from Theo, heading to the front door.

“Don’t be so dramatic. The doors open at seven and dancing begins at eight!” Theo called from behind him.

Draco waved his hand in acknowledgment and slipped outside the front door. A wave of his wand brought his beloved Muggle motorbike from the garage he’d made Theo build for it. He’d charmed it to fly, which made the commute from Bedfordshire to central London much easier. There was even a button to make the whole contraption invisible. He’d heard about his cousin Sirius’ motorbike from his Aunt Andromeda a few years after the war and had been inspired. He hadn’t purchased this one until after the divorce. And after his father had kicked him out of Malfoy Manor. If he was going to be labeled the rebel, well, Draco was going to live up to that label. 

He climbed onto the motorbike and started it with a jump then roared down the gravel path toward the closed gates of Nott Park before taking off into the morning drizzle. 

* * *

Draco’s day only went downhill after his conversation with Theo that morning. He’d always been good at Charms, so after the divorce, he’d found work at a shop in Diagon Alley as an apprentice Metal Charmer. He’d moved up the ranks and was a journeyman now. It was dirty, hands-on, sometimes hard work, but Draco loved it. When he perfectly got an object to accept all the magic that would make it last for a thousand years, it was a high he’d never get used to. There was a satisfaction in creating something with your own hands. That was another high Draco would never get used to. The drizzle at Nott Park had lasted all the way into London where it turned into an actual downpour just as Draco was guiding his bike to the back alley behind the shop. He entered the back door soaking wet and freezing, charming himself as dry as he could. The shop itself was kept blisteringly hot in order to make the metal they worked with more malleable. 

“Boss is on a tear today,” his coworker Davies said as Draco reached his station. “A whole shipment of snitches went bad.”

“A whole shipment?” Draco asked in disbelief. That was over five hundred snitches. How in the world would a whole shipment go bad?

“Inferior metal or something,” Davies replied. “I don’t know. Just warning you.”

Draco nodded and began digging out his tools for the day. He hadn’t worked on snitches in over a year, because they were relatively easy. He worked on specialized projects, like family clocks, timing devices, and helped the goblins at Gringotts with the vaults.

“Malfoy!” his boss barked from right behind him.

“Yes?” Draco turned to face the ill-tempered Yorin Romatsin. He wasn’t as bad as Snape and Draco had lived with him for seven years.

“I need you to work on snitches. I had a whole shipment go bad. Not a one of them will fly. Damn apprentices.”

“I have this clock due for the Cra—”

“Hang the damned clock! The snitches come first! I have ten thousand galleons riding on them and they have to be done by the end of next week!”

“Yes, sir,” Draco nodded. It had not taken him long as an apprentice to realize who was in charge at the shop. He probably could have bought the shop and run it himself, but Draco liked the actual work of the shop. He didn’t want to run things and worry about shit like bad snitch shipments. He’d much rather do his work for the day and go home. Davies handed him a sheet of gold and Draco began the opening charms to make wings for the snitches.

At lunchtime, the snitch he was working on blew up in his face. The scorch marks scrubbed off his face easily enough, his pride though was another matter.

Davies had giggled for almost a solid thirty minutes afterward and his boss had been less than pleased. Draco was in a right foul mood by the time the end of the day rolled around. 

Banging the metal door from the shop to the alley shut behind him, Draco hopped onto his motorbike and started it with a roar. The only thing he wanted at the moment was a very large glass of Firewhisky and perhaps a book to lose himself in. He shuttled off down the street until he’d gained enough momentum to lift off and then took to the air, hitting the invisibility button at the same time. 

The thirty-minute ride home was absolutely frigid and put Draco in an even worse mood. He stowed his motorbike and slammed his way into the house, cursing as he went. He tossed his sodding jacket onto a nearby sofa in the ground floor sitting room. Nott Park was as pretentious and elaborately decorated as Malfoy Manor and had Theo not had an army of house elves to keep the place in shape, surely Theo and Draco would have torn it to pieces by now. Draco was aware of his privilege and at the same time cared little for the trappings of his upbringing. He would have been happy in a tiny apartment in the city, but Theo had taken him in and now, a decade and a half later, Draco couldn’t really even think about leaving. Besides, Nott Park had a Quidditch pitch for the few times that Draco was able to see Scorpius without Astoria or his parents watching his every move. 

After pouring himself a Firewhisky so full it almost overflowed before Draco took a sip to stop it, he settled onto a sofa facing the fire and wallowed in his bad mood. It was a Thursday, which meant one more day of work for the week and then he’d have two blissful days off. Truthfully, he didn’t  _ have _ to work. He enjoyed his work. Except for when he had days like he’d just had and Draco knew that if he didn’t have anything to do all day, he’d have probably drank himself into an early death by now.

“There you are!” Theo said from the doorway of the sitting room. Draco acknowledged him with a slight nod to his head. He didn’t bother turning to face his housemate. Instead, staring into the fire as if it held all the secrets in the world and if he just looked long enough, it might spit one out for him.

“Well, are you ready to go?” Theo asked as he entered the room properly and poured himself a drink. When he walked around the sofa to see the size of Draco’s drink his eyes widened. “Merlin, liquid courage eh?”

“What are you blathering about?” Draco asked, finally turning his attention to Theo.

“The Halloween party tonight. At Blaise’s new club? I think it’s called like Club Liquid or something equally blasé.”

“Oh, fuck. That’s tonight?” Draco groaned. He set his drink on a side table and rubbed the gathering headache at his temples. “Don’t suppose I can beg off? Feels like I’ve got a herd of hippogryphs dancing in my head.”

“Nope! I secured your promise this morning. So you are stuck going. Toughen up, buttercup.”

Draco sneered at Theo and took a swig of his Firewhisky.

“But because I’m the best friend you’ve ever had, I’ll fetch some headache potion.”

Theo trod from the room before calling for a house elf. Draco did appreciate that at least he’d waited until he was in the corridor to begin shouting. He sighed and finished his drink. Perhaps he could find someone to distract Theo and Draco could head home early without Theo finding out. It was at least worth a shot. 


	3. Promises Kept

_October 31, 2024_

_8.23 PM_

* * *

The club was hopping by the time Hermione had wound herself through Diagon Alley and to its location. Millie had left a black, engraved invitation for her which meant she was able to skip the line that snaked its way around the block. The bouncer looked her over once, confiscated the invitation and gestured for her to go inside. Hermione smiled tightly at him as she entered the dimly lit area. There was a smoke charm or two in place. Fog swirled around her ankles as she entered the deepening gloom. From what she could see of the place, it was packed. Everyone was in a costume, which made Hermione breathe a sigh of relief. Most of the people waiting to get into the club had also been in costume, but Hermione was still insecure enough to worry about whether she was wearing the right thing in a social situation she didn’t feel comfortable in. And she definitely didn’t feel comfortable in Zabini’s club.

Millie dragged her out at least once a month to some function or other, but Hermione resisted as much as possible. Millie’s friends weren’t Hermione’s friends, even after five years. The Slytherins still had a tendency to sneer at Hermione. A habit she found entirely off-putting.

As the fog cleared, Hermione could see that all the usual suspects were present. Blaise, dressed as a centaur perhaps, Hermione wasn’t quite sure, was, of course, dancing in the middle of the dance floor with several very beautiful witches. And there was Millie, having spotted Hermione, weaving her way through the dances, dragging her giant of a boyfriend behind her. He wasn’t really a giant, but he was easily the biggest wizard in the club. Daphne Warrington née Greengrass, dressed as a wood nymph, waved at Hermione from her spot on the dance floor, her husband grinding behind her. Daphne was one of the few of Millie’s friends who was truly kind to Hermione. She waved back just as Millie and Marcus found her. They were in matching costumes of ancient Egyptian pharaohs.

“Alright, Granger?” Marcus asked, taking a swig from his drink.

Hermione smiled up at her roommate’s longtime boyfriend and nodded. Marcus returned the smile and then left them to find someone more male to talk to. He kissed Millie’s cheek as he took off and Millie sighed as she watched him go.

“You know that you could always fi—”

“Nobody is better than Marcus.”

“Even if he won’t ever propose?” Hermione asked.

“I’m not the marrying type,” Millie snarked.

Hermione laughed. “Apparently me either.”

They grinned at each other as Millie started directing them to the bar so Hermione could get a drink and Millie could refresh hers.

“Granger,” a low, sly voice said from her right once they’d finally made it to the bar. Hermione turned to find the devilishly, handsome Adrian Pucey standing there dressed as a demon. Considering he was one of the leading criminal defense barristers in the whole of wizarding Britain it was quite fitting and Hermione couldn’t have stopped the giggle if she’d tried.

“You like?”

Hermione laughed harder and Millie had to step in. “Buzz off, Pucey. She’s still not interested.”

“One of these days, Granger…” Pucey whispered in her ear as he took his drink and left the bar.

“Told you it would be all the same people,” Hermione said. “I think I saw each of these people at the last Zabini club you dragged me to back in September.”

“Merlin, Granger, lighten up,” Marcus said as he joined them once more.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Marcus and ordered another drink from the bartender. It was getting warm in the club and she didn’t want to ditch her leather jacket. “I’m going to find some air,” she said to Millie.

Millie waved her hand, already wrapped up in whatever Marcus was whispering in her ear. Hermione sighed and went up to the balcony area. She’d spotted a smoker’s deck as she approached the club and was pleased when she found that it was deserted. It was drizzling, so she cast an impervious charm above the deck, but not to the sides. She didn’t fancy being trapped in with the inevitable cigarette smoke.

Hermione pulled the pack she’d slipped into her back pocket and shook a cigarette out. It was a nasty habit, but one Hermione couldn’t seem to break. Especially when she was drinking. She lit the cigarette with the tip of her wand and inhaled deeply, reveling in the feel of the smoke in her lungs as she slowly let it out through her nose and took in the scene of the terminally wet London landscape before her. 

* * *

_October 31, 2024_

_8.56 PM_

* * *

A wall of sound engulfed Draco and Theo as the doors to the club were opened by the bouncer and Theo led them in. Theo was practically bouncing on his feet as he led Draco to the bar. Draco hated clubs. They are too noisy, too hot, and there was always too many people. Even the witches in their skimpy costumes weren’t much of a distraction for Draco. He followed Theo who procured drinks from the bartender and then wound his way through the dance floor to the VIP lounge on the other side of the club. Draco was pleased when he was able to sit down and just watch everything else. He really hated clubs. He’d never been that into them, even as a young man. Now in his mid-forties, they held no appeal at all. Blaise, however, didn’t feel the same.

“You call that a costume?” Blaise asked, a slight pant in his breath as he eyed Draco over his drink. Blaise was dressed as a centaur, which meant he didn’t have a shirt on. Draco wasn’t even a little bit surprised, Blaise was always the provocateur of their group.

“I’m a biker,” Draco said nonchalantly.

“How is that different than what you wear any other day?” Blaise demanded. “This is a _costume_ party. You need to be in costume.”

Draco rolled his eyes at Blaise’s dramatics. Theo thought Draco was dramatic, but Draco had nothing on Blaise.

“Oh, stop it, Blaise,” Theo said, sticking up for Draco. He raised his drink in thanks and looked back over the dancers writhing in the center of the club as Theo continued. “I got him out of the house, didn’t I?”

Blaise scoffed and let the matter drop. Draco’s jaw clenched at the reminder of his willingness to hermit himself away. The divorce had been miserable, the press after the divorce had been almost unbearable and Draco was still burned by it all these years later. He shuddered and stood from the low couch. He finished the rest of his drink and shook his empty glass at Theo and Blaise who had moved on to discussing which women were without dates for the evening.

After refreshing his drink at the bar, Draco headed to the second floor. He’d spotted a smoker’s balcony and it had been empty when he walked in. It was fairly cold for late October, and he was hoping it was still going to be empty. He pushed open the door and came face to face with his past.

Hermione Granger, the one who got away, was leaning against the railing, taking in the view, and had a lit cigarette in her hand. Draco almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Granger was too much of a goody-two-shoes to smoke, wasn’t she? At least, she had been twenty-some years ago, the last time he’d seen her in a setting like this. He knew she lived with Millie and had for the last few years, but somehow they’d never run into each other.

She still hadn’t turned around and Draco took in her costume. Granger looked damn good in all that leather encasing her still slim body. In fact, she looked fucking amazing. Draco hadn’t let himself think about her in so long. But now that he was in her presence, all his thoughts and feelings from his second try at seventh year came flooding back to him.

“Hey Granger,” Draco said in order to keep the memories at bay.

Granger whirled around, her eyes widened in surprise. For a moment she looked confused and then a megawatt smile broke out on her face. Draco’s heart beat faster at seeing that look. She looked so incredibly pleased to see him that he couldn’t help but to grin back at her.

“Draco!” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bringing him in for a brief hug before releasing him. Draco got just a whiff of her shampoo, despite the cigarette still in her hands. It was the same she used back at Hogwarts and the memories that were threatening earlier come exploding over him. “I haven’t seen you in ages!” Granger pulled back from him but kept her right hand on his arm. She brought the cigarette to her lips with her left and took a small drag, then put it out in a standing ashtray nearby.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think you were in the country? I hear _all_ about Scorpius from Rose. You must be so proud! Head boy! How have you been? What are you doing these days?” Hermione rambled.

Draco chuckled lowly. “Woah, Granger, calm down.” He offered her a smirk. “Since when do you smoke?”

Granger laughed and looked a little sheepish. “Nasty habit I picked up during the divorce.”

Draco nodded. He knew all about nasty habits picked up during divorces. It had taken him quite a few years to stop sleeping with anyone who looked at him twice.

Granger looked him over. “No costume?”

“I’m a biker,” Draco said and pointed to his leather jacket.

“Right, you are a biker as much as I am a cat,” Granger said and pointed to the small cat ears nestled into her frizzy mane.

“I was trying to figure out where the tail came in,” Draco teased.

Granger laughed and rolled her eyes. “Millie picked it out and made me wear it on pain of death.”

“That’s right, you live with Millie now. How is that?”

“Millie is great, although if you’d have told my second-year self that I would be living with her, I would have hexed you.”

Draco laughed. “Well, I think the same could be said for this conversation too, no?”

“I don’t know,” Granger said. “We got along pretty well that last year of school.”

Draco smiled softly. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

There was a pause in the conversation and Granger pulled another cigarette from her pack. She offered Draco one and he took it. She lit them both from the end of her wand.

“Can you believe all these people?” Hermione jerked her thumb to point to the inside of the club. “They’re all acting like bloody teenagers.”

“I never understood the obsession with dressing up for Halloween,” Draco laughed.

Granger shrugged. “It’s a Muggle thing, I guess.”

They sat in silence for a moment, finishing their cigarettes. Draco then opened his mouth and said something that he didn’t think he would have said if he had allowed himself to think about it at all.

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

* * *

_October 31, 2024_

_10.04 PM_

* * *

Hermione couldn’t quite believe that Draco Malfoy was standing in front of her after all of these years. For a long time, she wouldn’t even let herself think about him. Then once she had Rose, it became easier because she had so many _other_ things to think about. Even when she realized that her marriage with Ron was dead, and she stayed with him despite everything for another three years, she didn’t allow herself to think about Draco.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Draco asked.

“Sure,” Hermione replied. She wasn’t going to second guess herself tonight. She wasn’t about to let whatever had been simmering between her and Draco all those years ago slip away a second time.

“I really am a biker,” Draco said. “My motorbike is out front, but I’m sure I can lea—”

“Really? A motorbike? A Muggle one? I’ve never been on one.” Hermione said, suddenly much more excited.

“Well… it has a few wizarding upgrades. Aunt ‘Meda had been telling me about Sirius Black’s, he was my cousin, you know, and I thought it sounded interesting so I bought one. It flies and has an invisibility button. Charmed it myself.” Draco sounded so proud of himself that Hermione couldn’t help but grin at him.

“I don’t really like flying, but I definitely want to see this motorbike,” Hermione told him.

“Let’s go.” Draco opened the door and a wave of music rolled out into the night air. He ushered her into the club and then grabbed her hand. He pulled her through the crowd until they were coughed back out the front door of the club. Once they were back outside, Draco made to drop her hand, but Hermione squeezed his hand and he looked down at her with a smirk.

A little over a block later and they came to Draco’s motorbike. It was all black and chrome and it looked beautiful to Hermione. She had always sort of wanted a motorbike, but never felt brave enough to own one.

“So, where we going?” Draco asked lightly.

“Let’s go to mine. It’s not far. You won’t have to fly,” Hermione laughed. She also knew that Millie would be out for the night. She’d go back to Marcus’ as she usually did when they went out together.

“Alright,” Draco said agreeably. Hermione gave him some directions and Draco pulled two tiny helmets out of his jacket pocket, then swished his wand to make them full size. Hermione tucked her cat ears into her own jacket pocket as she tugged the helmet over her head.

“Ready?” Draco asked. Hermione nodded, feeling a little nervous.

Draco climbed onto the bike and gestured for Hermione to get on behind him. She did so and placed her hands on his waist to steady herself.

“Hold on tight,” Draco said and jumped to start the bike. It roared to life beneath them and Hermione scooted a little closer to Draco, wrapping her arms more firmly around his midsection. He took off slowly down the street and the cold wind that rushed by felt refreshing to Hermione’s heated skin. 

* * *

It wasn’t long before they were pulling up in front of Millie’s townhouse. Hermione laughed thinking of the loud motorbike in their quiet little neighborhood. As Draco cut the engine he asked what the joke was and Hermione told him. He grinned in response and Hermione’s heart fluttered.

She led him inside and offered tea. It felt like they were back at Hogwarts twenty-some years ago as they talked and laughed over tea. Draco had told her how a snitch had exploded in his face earlier in the day and Hermione was almost on the floor she was laughing so hard.

“Why did we stop talking?” Hermione asked after they’d both been silent for a moment.

Draco didn’t quite meet her gaze and Hermione had the distinct feeling that he was trying to decide whether to be truthful to her or not. She reached across the table and grasped his hand.

“Because of Weasley,” Draco said finally. Hermione wrinkled her brow and he continued. “Because I wanted you. Merlin, I wanted to ask you out at least a hundred times that last year. But you were with Weasley and I had spent my entire life being a completely selfish prick that I had made myself promise that I would _stop_ being so selfish. That I would let you be with Weasley because somehow I knew that you weren’t going to be with him long. I figured you’d see him for what he was after a year or so and then…” Draco trailed off. He still wasn’t looking at Hermione. “I just didn’t want to be a selfish prick anymore,” he said softly.

Hermione sighed and scooted her chair closer to Draco’s. “I probably should have broken up with him sooner than I did. But I don’t regret my children. I… I wish I would have known this then. Maybe it would have been different.”

“Maybe.” Draco sounded sullen. Hermione was afraid that he might get up and leave. So she did something she’d been thinking about most of the night. She put her hand on his cheek, making him face her. Then she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Draco inhaled deeply and, for a moment, Hermione was afraid that she had misread the signals. But then his hands were on her face, holding her in place as he deepened the kiss. He swept his tongue inside her mouth and Hermione couldn’t quite keep the moan from spilling out of her throat. Draco groaned in response and soon their hands were everywhere, ripping and pulling at clothes, each desperate to get the other one naked first.

Hermione’s tight, leather ensemble was almost entirely impossible for Draco to maneuver her out of without her help. So she lifted her arms as he pulled the vest above her head and shimmied to get the trousers off. Draco’s own t-shirt and jeans were a breeze by comparison and soon Hermione was perched on the edge of her and Millie’s kitchen table, while Draco kneeled between her thighs and licked her from arse to clit.

“Fuck, Draco!” she shouted and clasped his head as he began working his fingers inside her. He was driving her higher and higher and it wasn’t long before she fell off the cliff and into a blissful pool of pleasure.

“Draco,” she whined again as he stood and placed soft kisses against her neck.

“Granger,” Draco grunted as she reached a hand down and began sliding it up and down his hard length. Merlin, she couldn’t wait for that cock to be buried inside her.

“Draco, please,” Hermione said again, wiggling her hips.

“Tell me what you want. Tell me you need this,” Draco panted into her neck.

“Merlin, yes. Draco fuck me! Please!”

Draco shuddered and then helped her line himself up. As he sank into her, Hermione tossed her head back. That first initial thrust had always been the best part of sex. The first thrust, filling her up always served to start an earth-shattering climax. She wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck, pulling his face to hers so she could kiss him. She tried to tell him everything he needed to hear in that kiss.

“Fuck, Granger,” Draco stuttered as he began to move inside her. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good. So fucking tight.”

Hermione arched her back at his words and Draco dropped his head, sucking one nipple into his mouth. It was exactly what Hermione needed to send her over the edge once again.

“Draco!” she gasped and her entire body tightened around him as wave after wave of pleasure carried her off.

Draco didn’t last much longer after that before he was grunting out his pleasure. When it was over they both didn’t move for a moment, their breath intermingling. Draco tilted his head a bit and pressed his lips to hers once more. Hermione relished the kiss. It felt like promises kept. It felt like the future.


End file.
